“Mr. Patterson. Mr. Patterson. Sorry to interrupt, but I need your official statements about last night.”
For twenty minutes, Walsh walked us through everything. I described waking to smoke, trying to get Brian out, being trapped with flames closing in. Brian corroborated the timeline. Then Walsh’s voice became formal.
“I also need to inform you that Dennis Patterson has given a full confession to three separate incidents targeting Brian Patterson.”
My heart sank.
“He admitted to spreading rumors about Brian’s background, tampering with farm equipment, deliberately causing Mr. Brian Patterson’s fall that resulted in three broken ribs and a concussion, and setting the fire last night. He’s been very forthcoming about all of it.”
Brian closed his eyes.
I felt something inside me crumble.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“The district attorney will file charges. Likely multiple felonies, reckless endangerment, and related charges. Dennis will face prosecution.”
Walsh’s expression was sympathetic.
“His actions last night saving you both will be part of the record and may influence sentencing, but it doesn’t erase what he did before.”
After Walsh left, I stood.
“I need to see him.”
“Paul…”
“I need to see my son,” I repeated.
Brian nodded, understanding.
I stood outside room 414 for a long moment before pushing the door open.
Dennis was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Both hands were wrapped in thick white bandages, with smaller bandages on his cheek and forehead. His eyes were red.
When he saw me, his whole body tensed.
“Dad,” he whispered.
I sat down in the chair beside his bed. Neither of us spoke for a moment.
“They told me you confessed to everything,” I finally said.
Dennis nodded.
“I did. All three times. The rumors, the ladder, the fire. I’m not going to lie about it. I’m not going to make excuses.”
“Why, Dennis?”
The question came out broken.
“Why did you do it?”
His bandaged hands clenched.
“Because I was angry. Because I felt like everything I’d done for you and Mom suddenly didn’t matter. Because Brian showed up and it felt like he was taking my place. Taking Mom’s love even after she was gone. Taking your attention. Taking the farm I thought would be mine.”
Tears streamed down his face.
“I know how selfish and cruel it sounds, but that’s the truth.”
“You could have ended both our lives,” I said quietly.
“I know.”
Dennis’s voice cracked.